Maybe This is My Escape
by SherlockWhovian
Summary: 20 year old, Jane Moriarty, attempts to take her life, but someone stops her. This fic is a suspenseful adventure about how John and Sherlock try to save Jane from herself and her father, Jim Moriarty.
1. Found

**My name is Jane.**

**I never really liked that name, since I never thought I deserved to have such a pretty name. Jane should belong to a happy, beautiful girl… not like me. My mother would always hold me and tell me that I was such a pretty girl. At least that was before she died. Now I am all alone. I do have a father… if I should call him that. Anytime I see him, I try to hide so he doesn't find me. He yells and screams, saying things that I wish I could never hear. And when he does find me… I wish I were dead. And who is my father you may ask… It is a name no one ever wishes to hear. A name that when you it is mentioned, you cringe in horror. It is because of him that I am writing this note. This is my final testament before I take my last breath. Goodbye world… Goodbye to the man who gave me life, and is now taking it away… Jim Moriarty…**

Jane places down the letter, trembling. Who knew that she would ever come to this moment where she would decide to take her life?

She grabs the object right next to her and loads it. It is her father's pistol, that she has been threatened with so many times. As she holds it in her hands, she looks around her dim, tiny little room that she has lived in all her life. Then she looks back down. She pulls it closer and closer to her head.

"Goodbye," Jane says softly.

Just as she was about to pull the trigger pointed at her right temple, someone breaks down the door. This startled Jane so much that she dropped the gun.

Not being able to see the man's face and thinking it might be her father, she quickly backs into a corner and starts balling her eyes out.

"No, no! Please don't!" Jane screams as the man grabs the gun and walks towards her.

Then Jane notices that after she says that, the man puts the gun on the ground. She looks up to see that it is not her father, but a kind, gentle looking fellow.

He crouches down next to Jane and tries to calm her down.

"Shhh. It's okay. I'm not going to hurt you," He says softly.

"Then… why… are you… here?" She asks in between sobs.

"I saw you through your window. When I saw you had a gun, I quickly ran up here to see if you were all right. What are you doing with this pistol?" He says, sounding really concerned.

"It doesn't matter," Jane said finally calming down, then mumbles, "My life doesn't matter."

"It does matter. Are your mother and father home?"

She quickly responded, "I don't have parents."

"Oh… I'm so sorry. I didn't mean… I'm sorry."

"It's okay," She said silently. "You should probably leave…"

"I can't just leave you here by yourself, especially not after what just happened." The man stopped and thought for a while. Then he said, "How about you come with me and you can stay at my flat for a while. At least until everything is figured out."

Jane thought about this for a minute or two. _This could be my only opportunity to get away from my father._ After thinking, she finally said, "Where do you live?"

"I live at this quaint little flat at 221B Baker Street."

"Okay… I will come." As they start walking out, Jane thought about something and quickly stopped and said, "I don't think you have told me your name. Mine is Jane."

The man stopped and turned around and said, smiling, "My name is John Watson."


	2. Lair?

Jane and John Watson walk out of the building where Jane lived all her life. This was truly the first time Jane had ever really gone anywhere in her whole twenty years that she has lived, besides going to dark, scary places with her father.

She never went to school. All she had was her mother's old, dusty book collection that she used to teach herself how to read and write. Her mother always thought Jane was really smart and a prodigy at everything she did.

_That doesn't matter anymore. She is dead. _ Jane thought, trying to block the memories of when her mother died.

Jane quickly snapped out of day dreaming when she noticed John had got a cab and opened the door for her to get in.

After hesitating, Jane got in the taxi. She never liked taxis, since that is usually how her and her father got to the places where she had seen things that she wished she could forget. Jane closed her eyes, trying to keep from crying.

John got into the other side of the cab. He must have noticed Jane's stern face because he said, "It's going to be all right. You will be safe with me."

_Am I? Am I really safe? _Jane thought. _Will I ever be safe from my father?_

"I know…" She said, trying to sound strong. She opened her eyes and looked out the window.

She had never noticed how beautiful London was. She had only been outside during the day light a couple of times, but it was mostly just to take out the trash in the back of the apartment. There was not a lot of sunlight back there because of the rotting, dead trees that had covered it.

For the whole drive, there was not a lot of talking, just a few little glances John made at Jane.

_I feel so bad for her. _John thought, glancing at Jane. _Not having parents and living all by herself in a small, rundown apartment that barely had any furniture. I'm just glad I caught her in time before she did something with that gun. What was she planning on doing with that it anyway?_

John's thought ended quickly when the cab had stopped.

"221B Baker Street," The cabby said gruffly.

John handed the old looking cabby some Pounds when he and Jane got out of the cab. The cab immediately drove away.

They both walked across the sidewalk to get to the door. John opened the door with his key and led Jane through the door and up the stairs.

Jane was really anxious as they walked up the stairs. The stairway was dim and reminded her of so many other dark stairs she has walked up. She shook the thought out of her head and kept walking.

John opened one of the doors and walked in with Jane following behind.

"This is the living room and there is the kitchen," John said sighing and pointing to the kitchen.

Jane stood in the room looking around. _Wow, this place is extremely messy… is that a skull?_ Jane thought staring and the skull with a perplexed look on her face.

John noticed her looking and the skull and said, trying not to laugh, "Oh that is Sherlock's 'old friend.'"

"Sherlock?" Jane asked, confused.

"Sherlock is another person that lives in this apartment with me. Oh, there is also Ms. Hudson the land lady."

_Ok so he does not live alone… that sounds safer. _Jane thought with relief.

"Please sit," John said, pointing his hand towards a chair. "I'll go make some tea."

Jane sat down on the chair. She stared at the interesting wall paper. As she scanned the walls seeing interesting things like a spray painted, yellow smiley face on the wall, she heard footsteps coming closer and closer to the door. Then suddenly a man walked through the door.

The man had dark, curly hair, high cheekbones, and intense eyes. He was wearing a black, long coat and a scarf.

He started walking towards the chair that Jane was in. When he got there, he looked down at Jane, just noticing her sitting there. He stared at her.

"John!" The man yelled, backing away from Jane.

John came in with a tray with the tea he promised Jane. John placed the tray on the coffee table.

"Why is there a girl sitting in my chair?" The man said, still staring at Jane.

"Sherlock, don't be rude to our guest," John said sternly.

"When did you decide on having a guest? Let me guess this is another one of your girlfriends." Sherlock asked, now looking at John.

"No Sherlock," John said, scoffing, "She is not a girlfriend. It is a long story, but Jane is going to be staying with us for a while."

"You never asked me. Did you even talk to Ms. Hudson about this?"

"No but-"

Jane quickly cut John off and stood up, saying, "If it is a problem, then I can just leave." Jane started walking towards the door.

John quickly stopped her. "No there is no problem, and I don't think you are in any condition to be going back to that bloody place. Here," John pointed to another seat, "you can sit in my chair."

John glared at Sherlock. Sherlock stared back, mouthing, "what."

John shook his head and sat in another chair, while Sherlock sat in his chair.

Sherlock stared at Jane, trying to read her. _She is wearing men's clothing; obviously she lives with a man, probably a father. Her hair is messy; hasn't taken a shower in a while and probably sleeps on something hard, maybe a floor. From what I see, bruises on her wrists; abusive relationship maybe? Fair skin; probably does not go outside very much. She will not look at anyone directly in the eyes. Only can be one thing… imprisoned victim of an abusive father._

John noticed Sherlock staring and Jane and quickly changed the subject.

"How about I pour you some tea?" John said to Jane.

Jane shook her head and said, "I'm actually really tired. Can you show me where I will be sleeping?"

"Ok, um… you can stay in my room until we figure out another room arrangement for you. I can sleep on the couch tonight," John explained and brought her to a bedroom. "I will be in the living room if you need me." John closed the door and walked back to where Sherlock was waiting for him.

"So why is that girl really here?" Sherlock asked.

"Sherlock, I don't really want to talk about it right now," John said as he sat down in his chair, putting his face in his hands."

"Just tell me, John!"

"Fine I will tell you. You know how I left to go get groceries earlier? Well, as I was walking to the store, I randomly glanced into a window. I saw Jane sitting there on the ground with a pistol in her hands. I quickly ran to the door of the house and found it open, so I ran to the room she was in. When I came in she immediately dropped the gun and backed up into a corner, bawling. I ran over to her and calmed her down. I didn't want to just leave her there, so I brought her here."

"Do you know what she was doing with a pistol?"

"I have no idea," John exclaimed, lifting his hands in the air.

"Wasn't anyone there, like her father?"

"No, she doesn't have parents, and why would you think she would be living with her father? She is a grown adult."

"Isn't it obvious? She is wearing men's clothing."

"It could have been a boyfriend's."

"With hygiene like that, I highly doubt it."

"Well, I guess you were wrong this time because she told me that she doesn't have a father," John told Sherlock.

"Unless, she was lying to you."

John and Sherlock looked at eachother.


	3. Syringe Needles

Jane lay on the John's bed, staring at the ceiling and thinking. _What if this is all a trick? _ Jane thought, nervously. _What if my dad planned this whole thing to see if I would run away with the man? What if he punishes me for taking the opportunity? _

All the what if's were starting to give Jane a headache. She decided to just clear her mind of all the negative thoughts and focus on trying to sleep.

While lying there, she couldn't help but notice that there were voices coming from above. Since falling asleep was a lost cause right now, she decided to listen and try to make out what the voices were saying.

"Do you know what she was doing with a pistol?"

Jane guessed that it was probably Sherlock talking.

"I have no idea," John exclaimed.

"Wasn't anyone there, like her father?"

"No, she doesn't have parents, and why would you think she would be living with her father? She is a grown adult."

"Isn't it obvious? She is wearing men's clothing."

"It could have been a boyfriend's."

"With hygiene like that, I highly doubt it."

Jane couldn't help but feel a little insulted from that remark.

"Well, I guess you were wrong this time because she told me that she doesn't have a father," John told Sherlock.

"Unless, she was lying to you."

Jane quickly stopped listening to their conversation and started to panic.

_Oh my god!_ Jane thought nervously. _Are they figuring out that I lied to John… wait, if John believes that I do not have a father then they can't possibly be working for him, can they?_

Relief flooded over Jane, but that relief quickly faded away when she started hearing footsteps coming towards her door.

Jane quickly got under the covers on the bed, shut her eyes, and pretended she was sleeping.

John softly knocked on the door and walked in.

Jane tried to keep her breath nice and steady, so they wouldn't notice that she was really awake.

"See Sherlock, I told you she was sleeping," John whispered. "We should just go back upstairs."

"Fine…" Sherlock said, sounding slightly annoyed.

Sherlock walked out the door and John followed, quietly closing the door behind him.

_Damn that was close. _Jane thought. She opened her eyes and adjusted herself, so that she is laying on her back staring at the ceiling again. _Any second sooner and they would have caught me awake. _

Jane lay there, contemplating on whether or not they truly trusted her. Doing this she slowly fell into a deep sleep.

"_Jane… I have a surprise for you... bloody hell Jane; I am not in the mood for a game of hide in seek. So why don't you be a good girl and come out and give daddy a nice big hug."_

_A loud chuckle came from the outside of the little girl's door. The door slowly opened, making a creaking sound._

_The man walked in holding a syringe in one hand and a kitchen knife in the other. _

"_Hmm, I wonder where little Jane is? Is she in the closet?" The man opened the closet; no one there. "Is she in the Lou?" He opened the wash room; no one there. "This is getting really tiring Jane." He stopped right in front of a wardrobe, hearing whimpering sounds from inside. "Ah," He said chuckling, "she can't possibly be in here, can she?"_

_He quietly walked up to the wardrobe. He waited one second, and then slammed open the doors._

"_I found you." _

_The little girl screamed as the man grabbed her. The man just chuckled, dragging the girl out of the room._

Jane woke up, gasping for air.

"It was just a dream… just a dream." Jane sat up and pulled her knees to her chest, burying her face into her knees. She silently cried to herself.

After ten minutes of crying, she unraveled herself and wiped the tears away. She put her hand in her pocket, grabbing a now wrinkled piece of paper that she wrote the day before.

She sat at the edge of her bed reading its contents over and over again.

**My name is Jane.**

**I never really liked that name, since I never thought I deserved to have such a pretty name. Jane should belong to a happy, beautiful girl… not like me. My mother would always hold me and tell me that I was such a pretty girl. At least that was before she died. Now I am all alone. I do have a father… if I should call him that. Anytime I see him, I try to hide so he doesn't find me. He yells and screams, saying things that I wish I could never hear. And when he does find me… I wish I were dead. And who is my father you may ask… It is a name no one ever wishes to hear. A name that when it is mentioned, you cringe in horror. It is because of him that I am writing this note. This is my final testament before I take my last breath. Goodbye world… Goodbye to the man who gave me life, and is now taking it away… Jim Moriarty…**

She stared off into the distance, still holding the suicide note in her hands… her suicide note. All she wished for was to die so she can finally escape her evil father, who so tortured her and so many others before.

_I am his play thing. That is why he has kept me alive all these years. Why couldn't he have just killed me and save me the pain of living this God forsaken life._

Jane started to cry again. All she wanted to do was be alone, even if it had to be in a strange man's room, a man that she doesn't even know.

While she was crying a man came quickly into her room. This startled Jane, causing her to slightly jump.

Sherlock stood there staring at her as she jumped. There was a silence in the room for a few seconds.

Sherlock then realized that she jumped because he startled her when coming into the room.

"Oh… I didn't mean to startle you." Sherlock looked at something on a shelf. "I just came in here to grab something."

Jane watched as Sherlock walked to a book shelf in the corner of the room and grabbed something that looked a lot like a syringe needle.

When Jane saw him grab it, and he started to walk towards her direction with it, she screamed really loud and ran to an empty corner of the room and hid her face in her hands, crying.

Sherlock was in such shock that he just stood there and didn't move.

_What did I do? I just grabbed this needle and was going to grab something else I needed on the other side of the room. _Sherlock thought, not moving. _What did she think I was going to do?_

Suddenly, the sound of loud, fast footsteps came down the stairs. John slammed opened the door.

"What happened? What's wrong?" John stopped and noticed Sherlock was standing near the bed, shocked, and Jane was on the other side of the room in a corner, crying and screaming.

John looked at Sherlock and yelled, "What did you do this time, Sherlock?"

Sherlock didn't answer right away. He finally, still in shock, said something. "I… I don't know. I just came in to get two things for the experiment I am doing in the kitchen…" Sherlock sounded very baffled.

John went over to Jane. He squatted right next to her, but when he tried to put his hand on her shoulder, to calm her down, she flinched and screamed, "Don't hurt me, please don't hurt me!" while trying to push John away.

"Shhh. It's ok. It's me John; I'm not going to hurt you."

John sat right next to her. Jane collapsed into his arms, burying her face into his jumper. John just held her, trying to calm her down.

"It's ok, you're safe," John said in a soothing voice.

Sherlock, still standing in the same place, stared down at them. John looked at Sherlock and made a face that probably means that Sherlock should leave.

Sherlock hesitated for a second, but finally decided it would be a good idea for him to leave. He walked out the door.

As Sherlock walked up the stairs to get to the living room, he began to think. _Did she really think I was going to hurt her? All I did was grab one of John's medical syringes and started to walk to the other side of the room. _

Sherlock kept playing the scene in his mind, trying to see if he can deduct anything that just happened. _I walked to the book shelf. I grabbed a syringe. I turned and started to walk to the other side of the room. She screamed and ran to the corner of the room. Was there a spider on my shirt? No that can't be it. Did I remind her of a scary telly show? I highly doubt it. _

Sherlock sat down in his chair. He looked down at what he had in his left hand. _The syringe needle… could she have been scared of the syringe needle? That had to be it! She must have bad memories with these!_

Sherlock smirked to himself and looked at his watch. _I figured that one out in less than 30 seconds. _

John continued to hold Jane in his arms. They have been like that for about 15 minutes. Jane has mostly calmed down, besides for the little whimpers here and there.

John was still really confused on what happened with Sherlock and Jane. _I wouldn't be surprised if Sherlock did something that scared her. But I can't imagine Sherlock doing anything to scare her enough to make her scream and cry like this._

John softly stroked Jane's hair. After 5 more minutes had passed, Jane fell asleep in John's arms.

John picked her up and placed her on the bed. He pulled the covers over her and lightly kissed her forehead. He started to walk towards the open door, but something caught his attention. There was a wrinkled piece of paper on the foot of the bed. John, with curiosity filling him, silently walked over to the bed and picked it up.

As John read the piece of paper, his eyes grew wide. When he read the last two words, he gasped and dropped the paper.

John couldn't believe what he just read.

**This is my final testament before I take my last breath. Goodbye world… Goodbye to the man who gave me life, and is now taking it away… Jim Moriarty…**

_I now know what Jane was doing with a pistol. She was going to commit suicide… And her father is..._ John stared at Jane. He was breathing heavily. _Jim Moriarty is Jane's father._

John tried to process this. _Moriarty, the man that strapped bombs to me. The man who has killed so many… is Jane's father._

John quickly ran upstairs. He burst into the room where Sherlock was sitting on his chair, obviously thinking.

This startled Sherlock, since he was in deep thought. Sherlock stared at John. John was clenching one of his hands, psicho-somatically.

Sherlock quickly got up ready to tell John what he just deducted about what happened with him and Jane.

"John I know why Jane freaked out down there," Sherlock said excited. "She is just scared of syringe needles!"

Sherlock's excitement faded away when he noticed how tense John looked.

"What's wrong?" Sherlock said, actually sounding concerned.

"I know who Jane's father is…" John spoke in a tense, slightly scared voice.

"Who is it?"

John didn't answer. He put his face in his hands.

Sherlock, sounding really worried now, said, "John, just tell me. Who is it?"

John looked up, his eyes were all red. "That poor girl," John said softly, his voice slightly cracking. "That poor, poor girl…"

"John, please… just tell me who the father is." Sherlock looked into John's eyes, showing that he was serious.

John looked into Sherlock's eyes. "J-Jim Moriarty."


	4. The Father

Sherlock stood there in disbelief. _Jane is Moriarty's daughter… how could I not notice this before? _Sherlock thought, baffled by the thought of it._ She obviously looks a lot like him, with her black hair and very dark brown eyes. They are also both Irish._

"I thought he was gay," Sherlock finally said after standing in silence for a while.

"Does it really even matter?" John said, very angry that Sherlock would even think of that at a time like this. "All I know is that Jane had to spend her whole life with that man, having who knows what done to her." John chocked.

Sherlock didn't know how to reply to that. He was never really good with emotional moments, especially when it came to John. John was usually the one who had everything under control. He was a soldier of course.

John sat down on the sofa. His eyes were almost bloodshot from trying to hold back tears. He spoke with a serious tone, "We need to do whatever we can to protect her. I wouldn't be surprised if Moriarty was looking for her right now."

"I will text Lestrade. Maybe he will know the best way to keep her safe."

Twenty minutes after the message was sent to Lestrade, telling him it was very urgent, he showed with Sargent Donavan and Anderson.

All three of them walked into the room where John and Sherlock were waiting.

"Hello freak," Sargent Donavan said smirking.

"What's wrong this time, Sherlock, you said it was urgent?" Lestrade said, sounding concerned with a slight hint of annoyance.

Before Sherlock started to explain, he noticed Anderson had come. "Damn it Anderson, why are you here?"

"Oh, I just came for the fun of it. I always like to keep up with what my favorite psychopath is doing."

"Anderson…" Sherlock said, raising his voice, but then was quickly interrupted by John.

"Please keep your voice down, Sherlock. Jane is sleeping."

"Jane? Who's Jane?" Lestrade asked.

"Jane is a girl John rescued a day ago," Sherlock said, with a stern voice.

"I caught her right before she took her life," John explained, his voice straining.

Sherlock, first time hearing this, was not surprised at all at the thought of Jane thinking of killing herself.

John continued, saying, "I didn't know that at first, though. All I knew was that I couldn't leave her alone, so I brought her here."

"Ok, what do you need our help for?" Sargent Donavan asked.

John looked down at his hands. He didn't want anyone to see the hurt in his eyes. He tried to keep from crying as he said, "We just found out the reason why she was going to commit suicide…"

John couldn't help himself. Tears started to roll down his cheeks. He couldn't imagine how much pain Jane went through, how every day she would cower in fear as her father hurt her. His silent crying turned into deep sobs.

Everyone stood there, looking at the man who was usually the one who would be the strongest in situations like this. They never thought they would ever see this soldier making such a wreck of himself.

John knew that he needed to tell them everything, being the only way they could figure out how to keep Jane safe. John tried to say, "Jane…" but he was sobbing so much he couldn't complete the sentence. John looked up at Sherlock, pleading with his eyes for Sherlock to tell them.

Sherlock sighed and looked at the three people standing in front of him with a stern look. Knowing that he would have to be the strong one in this situation, after a moment, Sherlock finally said, "We found out who Jane's father is."

Lestrade, Anderson, and Sargent Donavan stood there, waiting for an explanation.

Sherlock finally said, "Her father is James Moriarty."

They all stood there in disbelief at the words Sherlock just spoke.

"Oh God…" Lestrade said, putting his hand to his face. "That poor, poor girl."

"That is why we need your help," John said with a slightly raspy voice, his sobs subsiding. "We need to keep her safe. Moriarty is probably looking for her right this minute, and we have nothing to protect her with."

"We will do everything we can to keep Jane safe," Lestrade said in a serious voice. He turned to face Donavan and Anderson. "I need you two to go get surveillance cameras. We also need some of the SWAT team to be watching the building in all directions, at all times."

"Yes sir," Anderson and Donavan said at the same time. They quickly left, talking into their walky-talkies.

As Sherlock and Lestrade talked about logistics, John snuck out of the room without them noticing.

John walked silently to his room where Jane was. He opened the door quietly, since he didn't want to wake her.

John walked to the side of the bed Jane was lying on. He grabbed a chair and put it right beside the bed. He sat down and looked at her.

John noticed even when she was sleeping, she looked worried. He tried to take in every detail of her.

_She really is beautiful. How can someone as beautiful as her be the daughter of such a horrible man? _John thought.

As he looked at her cheek-sunken, fragile face, he noticed how many scars and bruises she has. Some were obviously almost faded, but some looked as if they were just made a day or two ago. Jane also looked like she has been starved for a week.

In that moment, John felt a blanket of hatred flow over him. He hated that Jane went through so much pain. He hated Moriarty for being the one who inflicted the pain on Jane. Now, more than ever, he wanted to kill this man. He wanted to hunt him down and avenge Jane for everything her father did to her.

The anger bottled up inside of him. All John wanted to do at that moment was scream as loud as he could, but he knew he couldn't. He has to think about Jane. He knows he has to be strong for her and be her rock.

John stored the anger away and focused on thinking of something else. After a few minutes, he fell asleep.

Jane woke up to darkness. She has obviously been sleeping all day. There is a lot of commotion going on upstairs, but she was too weak and scared to get up.

She turned her head to the side and noticed John peacefully sleeping in a chair right next to her bed. She sighed.

_He really is concerned about me, isn't he? _Jane thought. _John is the first person ever, since my mother died, to be kind to me and care about my wellbeing. Now I feel like there is finally someone in the world that actually cares about me._

Jane got up quietly. Noticing John was shivering a little; she took a blanket off the bed and gently put it over his shoulders, like her mother used to do when Jane was really young.

Jane looked down at herself, noticing how dirty she looked. Since the electricity and water was turned off for a week back at where she was living, she hasn't been able to take a shower and wash her clothing.

Jane decided it would be best if she took a nice warm shower and try to scrub her clothes clean. _Maybe the warm water will relax me a little and let me clear my head. _Jane thought. She silently walked to the loo and closed the door.

The sound of the closing door woke up John from a dreamless sleep. He looked at where Jane body was, for what felt like a minute ago, and was startled to see that she was not there.

John quickly stood up, looking around the room. He walked over to the door to the loo and quickly calmed down when he heard the sound of the shower running.

John sighed. _Well that literally almost gave me a heart attack._ John looked at the clock and noticed that he has been asleep for three hours.

John stepped out of the room and walked to the living room. He passed Anderson and many other officers at work. Once he got into the room that Sherlock was in, he noticed that they were basically almost done putting the surveillance cameras in places where they would not be noticed.

Sherlock noticed John walk into the room. He walked over to John and said, "Everything is almost done. With what they have done to the place, it would be very difficult for Moriarty to even get in a two mile radius of Baker Street without being seen… and why on Earth do you have a blanket around your shoulders?"

John looked down at himself. He was as confused as Sherlock. John shrugged and said, "I have no idea."

After a minute, Sherlock decided to drop the subject.

Sherlock clasped his hands together and asked, "So, is Jane awake yet?"

"Yes, yes she is. She is taking a shower right now."

"Well you should probably get her something to wear, so she doesn't have to wear those God awful clothes anymore."

"I guess that means your volunteering to donate some of your clothing?"

"Oh heavens no. Have her wear some of your clothing."

John sighed. He really did not feel like arguing with Sherlock at the moment. He walked back to his room and grabbed a grey jumper and some knickers out of one of his drawers. The sound of the shower running stopped.

He walked up to the door that Jane was behind and knocked. "Jane I brought you some clothes to wear."

"No… I'm fine I can wash what I was wearing."

John didn't want to be rude by making her wear his clothing, but thought it would be for the best if she did.

He decided to say, "I would feel much better if you did."

John heard a sigh coming from Jane's side and the door started to crack open. John turned his face away and put out his arms that had the clothing in it.

Jane was hiding behind the door and quickly grabbed the clothing and shut the door.

John sat on the bed and waited for Jane to come out because he really needed to talk to her.

After five minutes, Jane came out wearing John's clothing. John looked up at her.

John could clearly see her face, especially now that all the dirt was cleaned off and her hair wasn't covering it anymore. _Wow. _John thought to himself. _She is so beautiful._

Jane noticed that John was staring at her. It always made her feel uncomfortable when people looked at her. But, John has really soft, calming eyes, not making her feel at all anxious when he is around. Jane feels that she is truly safe with John watching after her.

Before Jane did anything John said, "Jane…"

Jane froze.

"Please sit." John pointed to the seat that was right next to the bed.

Somehow, Jane started walking slowly to the chair and sat down.

Outside of John's bedroom window, there stood a man on the roof of a low rise building across the street from 221B. He watched John and Jane talk.

He chuckled.

"This should be fun," Moriarty said as he smirked.


	5. Hospital Bed

"Please sit." John pointed to the seat that was right next to the bed.

Somehow, Jane started walking slowly to the chair and sat down. Jane gripped the arms on the chair, causing her knuckles to turn white.

John kept looking into Jane's eyes, trying to sense anything. Fear, Anxiety, maybe even nothing. He didn't see anything at all. At times like this, John wished he could deduce things like Sherlock.

Jane looked anywhere but John's eyes.

John sighed and looked at his hands. He quickly spoke, "Jane." John had no idea how to put this. "I need to know the truth. Is your father really dead?"

Jane stopped breathing. A blanket of fear came over her. _What do I do? _ Jane thought. _I can't tell him he is alive, he will know that I was lying earlier. What if he sends me back to my father?_

Jane caught her breath and said silently, "Yes…"

John could tell she was lying, but what could he say. The girl obviously was scared out of her mind.

"It's ok, Jane. You can trust me," John said with a soothing voice.

"I can't trust anybody!" Jane yelled out, the fear bubbling up inside of her. "You have no idea what he will do to me if he finds me!"

"Who will do what to you?"

"My father, Jim Moriarty!"

Jane curled up in a ball on the chair. She was shaking immensely.

There were fast footsteps coming towards the door. Sherlock and Lestrade slammed open the door.

"What happened? Is everything okay?" Lestrade said, panting, obviously from running so quickly to John's room.

John got up and walked towards Sherlock and Lestrade. He whispered, "Jane jut admitted to me who her father is."

John and Lestrade walked over to Jane and Sherlock stayed behind. John started stroking Jane's hair, while Lestrade talked to her.

Sherlock watched from a distance, taking in every detail of Jane. He examines her. _From what I see, she has 32 scars, not counting the fading ones. 13 on her face, 7 on her neck, 5 on her hands, and 7 on her feet. There is an open wound, which is about 3 and half inches long, below her right eye, and two deep 1 inch cuts on her left foot. She has a black eye and her bottom lip is busted open, which was probably made the day before John found her. She has sunken in cheeks, probably from not eating for a few days. Jane really needs some medical attention._

Sherlock clears his throat. "I hate to interrupt you, but Jane really needs to see a doctor."

"Sherlock, I am a doctor," John said sounding a little annoyed.

"Well, if you such a good doctor, then you would have noticed that Jane needs stiches on her left foot and her bottom lip, and she is malnourished from not eating anything for probably a week. Oh, and her open wound under her right eye is getting infected."

John looked at Jane. _Am I really that stupid? I have been so worried about Jane being Moriarty's daughter, that I did not notice that she is in need of serious medical care._

"I'll call an ambulance," Lestrade said.

When Jane heard Lestrade say "ambulance," she quickly got up and said, "No… I-I'm ok. They're scratches really. I do not need to see a doctor."

"Yes you do, Jane. If these wounds get any worse, you might get a really bad infection that could really harm you," John said with a worried voice.

"It doesn't matter… I have had worse."

John looked away from Jane. Hearing Jane say that her pain doesn't matter, is killing John on the inside. "Jane please… you need to see a doctor."

Jane could see the hurt on John's face. Jane finally gave in. "I will go… as long as you stay with me." Jane looked at John with her big, brown, tear-filled, puppy dog eyes.

"I will never leave your side. I promise," John said with a stern voice.

Lestrade went to the other side of the room and called 999 for an ambulance.

After six minutes had passed, the ambulance showed up. Two paramedics put Jane on a stretcher and started to wheel her out the door.

When they got to the ambulance, a paramedic stopped John and said, "Only family members can ride in the ambulance, are you family?"

John shook his head and said, "No, but I am all she has."

The paramedic sighed and let him get in.

Before they closed the doors Sherlock said, "Lestrade and I will follow."

John nodded. They closed the doors of the ambulance. John watched as one of the paramedics put an IV into Jane's hand and the other examined the wounds.

Jane turned her head to John. There were tears streaming down her fragile face.

Jane is obviously scared, so John knows he has to be strong for her.

After five minutes had passed they showed up at Princess Grace Hospital, which is the nearest hospital from 221B Baker Street.

John stayed by Jane's side the whole time they were wheeling Jane into the hospital and into a separate room.

"Sir, I will have to ask you to wait outside the room for a while," A doctor said when he saw John in the room.

John nodded and whispered to Jane, "I have to go for now, but I will be right outside the door." John kissed Jane on the forehead and walked out of the room.

Lestrade, Sherlock, and two policemen showed up.

"How's she doing?" Lestrade asked.

"She's hanging in there," John said, putting his hand through his white-blonde hair.

All of them waited for one of the doctors to come out to give them a report.

John was really surprised that Sherlock hasn't said anything the whole time that they have been here. _Sherlock is definitely not the quiet type. Ever since that one moment he had with Jane and the syringe needles, he has not even gone within four feet of her. For the first time, I think Sherlock is actually trying to be careful what he says and does around people._

John paced the floor, waiting. Twenty minutes has passed and still no word from any of the doctors.

Finally, after ten more minutes passed a doctor came out. Everyone got up and crowded the doctor.

"How's Jane," John asked quickly.

"Jane is doing perfectly fine. We sewed up all her deep cuts and bandaged the rest. She is going through the rehydration process right now, so she might have to be here for a few days. May I ask which one of you is the father?"

Everyone looked down at their feet. Of course none of them were her father.

Since no one else would speak up, Sherlock said, "I am the father."

Everyone looked at Sherlock like he was crazy.

The doctor looked up at Sherlock and then looked back at his folder. "What happened that put Jane in this condition?"

"She called me to come pick her up from her boyfriend's flat, where she has been staying for the past week. She sounded very urgent, so I quickly got a cab and went to go get her. When she came out the door…" Sherlock choked as fake tears ran down his face. "I brought her back home and quickly called an ambulance after my friend, who is a doctor, looked at her wounds." Sherlock pointed to John, indicating that John is the doctor friend.

"And might I ask why you have brought policemen?" The doctor said, looking confused at the men in front of him.

Lestrade quickly spoke up. "I'm Detective Lestrade. I am investigating this case. I think it was attempt of murder. I have brought these two men to guard Jane's room, just in case her uh… boyfriend comes to see her."

The doctor nodded. "You may go see Jane now."

The policemen stayed outside as John, Sherlock, and Lestrade walked into the hospital room. John immediately rushed to Jane's side. Lestrade followed, but Sherlock stayed right next to the door.

"How are you feeling?" John asked with a small smile.

"Okay I guess…" Jane sounded groggy, probably from the pain killers they gave her. "How long am I going to be here?"

"For as long as you need to. Don't worry, I will not leave you," John spoke in a soft tone.

"You will be safe here. We have people guarding the doors at all times," Lestrade said as he walked to a corner of the room with chairs.

The fear subsided in Jane's eyes and for the first time, Jane actually smiled a little. "Thank you." Her voice faded as her eyes fluttered close.

John smiled down at Jane. "She fell asleep. It must be the morphine."

John turned towards Sherlock and Lestrade. Lestrade was sitting in a visitor's chair, staring off into space, thinking, and Sherlock was leaning up against a wall, looking down at his phone while texting vigorously.

John is still confused about why Sherlock said that he was Jane's father, instead of telling them the truth.

Sherlock obviously could sense John staring at him and said, still looking down at his phone, "I guess you're wondering why I said I am Jane's father."

"Well I would think any sane person would wonder, Sherlock."

"By telling them that, it gives us full access to Jane's medical files, if she has any, and there is now no limited visiting hours for us. It was convenient," Sherlock said, putting his phone in his pocket.

"Convenient? So lying is now convenient. Do you realize we could have seen those files because we have the police force with us?"

"That's what everyone thinks, but that is definitely not true. The police think they can see any file that has ever been created, with a probable cause of course, but they cannot always see the confidential files. Being the father, I can see any file I want," Sherlock smirked like he always does when he makes other people sound stupid.

John had to admit that Sherlock can be very useful, but he would never admit that to Sherlock because he knew it would only give him another reason to have a big head. "Whatever. Just go to sleep."

"Sleeping is boring," Sherlock sighed sitting in the seat right next to Lestrade, making Lestrade snap out of his trance.

"Sorry. I should probably go make some calls," Lestrade said, getting up and walking out the doors.

All John knew was that he was that he was not excited to be sleeping in a hard chair all night, but he would do it any day for Jane.

John turned off the light, grabbed a chair, and placed it right next to Jane's bed. He sat down and closed his eyes. The humming sound from the heart monitor eventually made John sleepy and after a few minutes, John fell into a restless sleep.

It was 2:24 in the morning. Most of the hospital staff that have the night shift, have gone to the cafeteria to get coffee.

The hallway was silent except for the sound of a person's footsteps. The man walked down the hall like he was invisible. Metaphorically speaking, he was. He was wearing a doctor's uniform; everyone did not pay any attention to him.

He stopped in front of a room. The two guards were asleep on duty, of course. The man chuckled to himself and patted their heads lightly. He walked in and silently closed the door behind him.

He scanned the room. There were three men sleeping in chairs. John Watson's body was upright in a chair, besides for his head, which was lying in his crossed arms on the hospital bed. Sherlock was lying down on a group of chairs that he had obviously collected from other rooms. Detective Lestrade was slumped down in a chair with his head pressed down against his chest.

The man walked over to the bed and sat on the edge of it right next to Jane. He looked over her limp body and sighed, hating that she was all bandaged, having nothing left for him to see.

He got up and put his hand in his white coat pocket, taking out a blood red, thorny rose. He placed it on a stand that was right next to Jane's bed. After placing the rose down, he bent over Jane's body and kissed her cheek. "Daddy will visit you again soon Jane," Jim Moriarty smirked as he caressed his daughter's pale face.

Before Moriarty left the room, he walked over to Sherlock and placed a small, folded piece of paper in Sherlock's front shirt pocket.

He walked out the door and patted the policemen's' heads again. He chuckled deeply as he said, "Laters."


	6. The Mother

"_Mummy, where are you?" The little girl walked down the dim hallway, tears streaming down her small, dirt covered face. "Mummy, I'm scared."_

_There was a loud crash coming from a room at the end of the hallway._

"_Please Jim… I didn't mean to! I'm sorry!" A voice came from a distance. Suddenly there was a loud smack and thump, as if a body hit the floor._

"_You think you could just leave me, ey? You think you could just jump out a window and runaway?" Jim Moriarty yelled. "You want to leave? Fine, I will give you what you want!"_

_The little girl walked slowly up to the cracked open door, not knowing what was going on. She peaked through the opening._

_Jim dragged the woman across the floor by her hair to a shelf that held a gun. He pulled the woman up to her feet, wrapping a strong arm around her waist. He grabbed the pistol and loaded it. The woman struggled to get away, kicking a screaming._

_Jim would not let her go. He pointed the gun at her head and kissed her on the neck for the last time. "Goodbye Catherine." He pulled the trigger._

Jane gasped for air. She struggled to get up but someone was holding her down. Jane opened her eyes to see a huge commotion of doctors and nurses surrounding her.

"Her heart rate is speeding up! Someone please give me the vile I asked for!" The doctor yelled at the nurses.

Jane still couldn't breathe. One of the nurses put an oxygen mask over her, pumping air through her lungs.

A chill went through Jane's veins, as the doctor put the medicine through her IV.

"Jane you need to stop struggling" The doctor demanded to Jane, but Jane's body kept shaking uncontrollably. "Jane? Jane, can you hear me?"

"She's not responding, doctor." A young nurse spoke sternly.

Someone pushed through the circle of nurses. John grabbed Jane's shaking hand. "Jane. I'm here. Shhh, it's okay. You need to stop struggling now." John said soothingly, keeping a soft grip on Jane's hand.

Jane looked into John's soft, hazel-blue eyes.

Her shaking started to subside as John and Jane stared into each other's eyes, as if his presence could heal her.

"Her heart rate is slowing!" The doctor exclaimed.

After a few minutes, Jane started breathing normal again. The nurse took away the oxygen mask. As soon as Jane's heart rate became normal again the nurses and the doctor left the room.

"We will check on Jane every once in a while. If something happen or if Jane needs anything, come find me," The doctor said before he walked out the door.

John nodded at the doctor.

John put his attention back on Jane; his hand was still holding hers. "Jane…" John spoke softly, but was interrupted by Sherlock coming in loudly through the door.

"John," Sherlock said sternly, walking through the door. "I need to speak to you out in the hallway."

"In a minute," John said still looking at Jane.

"No John. This is important."

John sighed. "I'll be right back, Jane."

Sherlock and John walked out the door. Sherlock closed it.

"What is so important, Sherlock?" John asked, sounding very irritated.

Sherlock grabbed something out of his front shirt pocket.

"What is that?" John asked looking at the folded paper.

"I found it in my pocket when I woke up this morning. I would have never noticed it if it hadn't been in my shirt pocket. I never keep anything there."

"Well, what does it say?"

Sherlock hands it over to John. John unfolds it and reads:

**My dearest Sherlock,**

**I'm glad to see that you are taking wonderful care of my daughter. I want Jane to be in good shape when you so kindly bring her back to me. God, I always love family reunions!**

**Oh and tell your pet, Johnny Boy, to keep his hands off my daughter. She is way too young for him. **

**I will visit again soon!**

**Love always,**

**Jim Moriarty**

**P.S. You look so adorable when you sleep. ;)**

John was so exasperated that he almost dropped the note. "M-Moriarty was here… in this room… while we were sleeping?"

"That's not all. Smell the signature," Sherlock spoke sternly.

John brought the paper up to his nose and smelled it. "That's not ink. That's… that's."

"Blood. Before you woke up, I quickly when to Bart's and tested it. It was the exact match to Jane's blood."

"Oh God no… please tell me your lying, Sherlock. Please tell me that Moriarty didn't come here in to middle of the night and take some of Jane's blood," John said putting his face in his hands.

"The good news is that I checked Jane's body for puncture wounds or any sort of cut and didn't see any. So he had to have got it from somewhere else."

"How could he have gotten into our room though, Sherlock? We had two bloody policemen guarding the door!"

"They must have fallen asleep while on duty."

"Those damn idiots! What if Moriarty did something to Jane! What if he actually took her while everyone was sleeping?" John was yelling now. He clenched his fist, about ready to punch someone.

A nurse walked up to John. "Sir you are disturbing the peace. You either calm down or we will have to ask you to leave."

"Sod off! I have the right to be loud and angry! The girl I love could have gotten kidnapped last night because some bloody idiots that call themselves policemen couldn't stay awake!"

Sherlock put his hand on John's shoulder. He has never seen John act like this before. John looked like he was going to kill someone.

John calmed down a little and said through gritted teeth, "I'm sorry… it will never happen again." John got out of Sherlock grip and walked back into Jane's room.

The nurse walked away, mumbling things under her breath. Sherlock decided that John needed some time alone. He got out his phone and started to text Lestrade to see where he was.

John walked into Jane's room. Thoughts swirled through his head. _I can't believe Moriarty was here. Did I really just yell out that I love Jane in front of Sherlock and a nurse? I hope the doors are sound proof. Why is Sherlock so calm about this whole situation?_

John stopped at the foot of Jane's bed. She was sitting up now, smelling a blood red, thorny rose. A little smile crept on Jane's face.

John walked over to the chair right next to Jane's bed that he slept in the night before. He sat down.

There was silence between them for a little while.

Jane broke the silence with her soft voice. "My mother's favorite flower was the red rose. My father used to get her one every year for her birthday." Jane looked up at the wall in front of her. "Her name was Catherine. She was so beautiful. She had long, brown hair and hazel eyes." Tears started to stream down Jane's cheeks.

John gently grabbed Jane's hand and held it. This time Jane held his hand, too.

"My mother really loved my father, even though he did such terrible things to her and me…" Jane wiped a tear from her cheek. "He wasn't always bad though. He used to hold my mother in his arms, kiss her, and tell her how much he loved her. When I was younger he would rock me in his arms and sing Irish lullabies to me until I fell asleep." Jane's face turned grim. "That all changed though. On my seventh birthday, I woke up and no one was in the room with me. The whole house was silent. I walked down the hall in one of my father's old, tattered shirts, wearing it like a night gown. I was really scared and kept on calling out for my mother. The silence was broken when I heard I heard a crash and my mother's voice crying out for forgiveness."

Jane choked, closing her eyes. She continued. "She was crying out for my father to forgive her. From the sounds I heard, I think he slapped her and she hit the floor. He yelled and screamed at her. I still remember exactly what he said. You think you could just leave me? You think you could just jump out a window and runaway? You want to leave? Fine, I will give you what you want. I have never forgotten those words. Not knowing what was going on, I ran up to the door that the voices were coming from. I watched as he grabbed my mother, kissed her neck, and shot her in the head. His last words he said to her were goodbye Catherine. I saw her limp body fall to the ground. I saw him kill my mother and I didn't do anything!"

Jane was now sobbing. John got up to go sit on the side of Jane's bed. Before he sat down, he moved the rose out of the way. When he did this, one of the thorns accidently pricked his finger. He paid no attention to it and sat down. Jane held his hand tighter and cried into John's chest.

"Shhh… It's not your fault. You were just a child. Do not ever blame yourself for what your father did," John whispered softly.

"E-Every time I close my eyes, I see the face of my father after he shot her. He was smiling. He looked down at her blood covered body and smiled. I never saw any signs of guilt, just happiness."

John didn't know how to respond to that. There was silence between them for a moment.

The silence was broken by a silent sigh. "But if I really think about it… sometimes I envy my mother. She finally gets to have eternal peace."

John looked down at Jane. She looked somewhat peaceful, with her head buried in John's jumper, as if the sound of John's heartbeat comforts her.

Jane turned her head, revealing the non-bandaged part of her face. John brushed the strands of her dark brown hair from her pale skin.

"John… I…" Jane started to say but was suddenly interrupted by a ring from a mobile that lay on a visitor's chair on the other side of the room.

_Of course… another interruption. Let me guess it is probably Sherlock calling. _John thought. He was so irritated, he almost decided to let it keep ringing, but he knew he couldn't because it could be something important.

"Hold that thought," John told Jane as he got up from the bed.

He started walking towards the phone but was stopped by a sudden pain in his chest. His heart felt like it was bursting. John held onto something to keep him standing, as he grabbed his chest in pain. He squeezed his eyes shut; the shooting pain was too unbearable.

"John… John what's going on? Are you okay?" Jane asked sounding really concerned.

The firey pain was spreading through his veins. John couldn't hold himself up anymore and dropped to the ground. He yelled out in pain.

"HELP! SOMEBODY HELP!" Jane pulled the IV out her hand and removed all the wires attached to her body. She knelt down next to John. "HELP!" Jane kept screaming.

John was in the fetal position on the floor. The pain spread to his abdomen, head, and every inch of his body. He started shaking. John felt like he wanted to die.

John opened his eyes for one second, seeing Jane looking down at him screaming his name and doctors rushing into the room. The last thing he saw was Sherlock bursting through the door.

"John," Sherlock said looking down at him.

John's vision went black.


	7. Poison

The florescent light flashed in and out of John's vision, the fire still coursing through his veins. All the muscles in his body were making sharp spasms. His lungs were constricting, making him gasp for air.

The doctors rushed John's uncontrollably shaking body into the emergency room. Nurses and doctors surrounded him.

They checked John's blood. "It's strychnine poison. Someone grab the charcoal solution!" A doctor yelled out. "Stay with us John!"

Out in the waiting room, Sherlock and Jane waited. The doctors tried to get Jane to go back to her room but she refused. They finally gave up on trying to convince her. A nurse bandaged up Jane's bleeding hand from where she ripped out the IV and left her there to wait.

Jane sat on a chair, her knees pulled tightly to her chest, and cried silently while Sherlock was pacing the floor, texting vigorously, trying to contact Lestrade.

Sherlock was really affected by what happened to John. He actually felt pain and sadness, which is something new for Sherlock. His only friend could be dying or could even be dead at this very moment and he wasn't there to help him.

Lestrade still didn't answer any of his texts. Sherlock felt like swearing and throwing his mobile at the wall but restrained himself. His shoved it in his pocket and slumped down in one of the chairs.

There was a very long moment of silence. No one had the will to say or do anything, they just waited.

The silence was broken by a small, quiet voice. "This is all my fault." Sherlock looked over at Jane, whose tear covered face was now looking at a blank, white wall. "If John had never saved me from killing myself, he would not be dying in this God forsaken hospital. It's all my fault! I wish I was never brought into this life!" Jane was now sobbing.

Sherlock felt awkward watching the young woman cry, not knowing what to do. He wants to help but whenever he sees Jane's face, he gets a flashback from the time Jane looked at him with fearful eyes, watching him walk towards her with a syringe needle in his hand. He never truly understood emotions, especially when it came to women.

Yet, he felt that he should do something, other than sit there and stare at her, hoping she will stop crying. He knew that would never happen. Sherlock got up and walked to a chair right next to Jane's. He sat down and contemplated on how to comfort a crying young woman. He lifted his right arm and placed it around Jane's shoulders, like he has seen John do many times.

As soon a Jane felt the arm around her, she hesitated but eventually leaned into Sherlock, still crying. Sherlock tried to ignore the wet tears dripping on his shirt; he was never really one to comfort people.

A half an hour had passed and there was still no news from any doctor. Jane and Sherlock were still in the same position. Jane stopped crying, which made Sherlock relieved especially because part of his shirt was soaked from her deep sobs. He was finally able to ignore the awkwardness of holding Jane.

About a minute later, a doctor came through the door. Sherlock and Jane both jumped up at the same time, rushing over to the doctor.

"Is he okay? Please tell me that John is okay!" Jane blurted out. She looked like she was going to burst into tears again.

"He is unconscious, but he is stable now. We found Strychnine poison in his bloodstream. It's a good thing we caught him when we did, he could have died if it was any later," The doctor said sternly. He opened his folder and grabbed a pen out of his pocket. "Will it be okay if I ask you some questions about John?" The doctor looked at Sherlock.

"It depends on what the questions are," Sherlock said, sounding like his normal, arrogant self again.

The doctor ignored that remark and asked, "Has John ever shown any warning signs of committing suicide?"

"Stupid question. Next."

"But sir this is very important. We think that John might have attempted to take his life."

"John would never do anything like that. Now, if you are done asking me questions, Jane and I would like to see him." Sherlock walked around the doctor. He asked a nurse where John was and walked straight to the private room, Jane following right behind.

They walked into the room and closed the door. John was lying on the bed peacefully. He was hooked up to a water drip and a heart monitor.

Jane walked up to the side of John's bed and sat down in the chair that was placed next to him. She silently looked down at John.

Sherlock could see the hurt in Jane's eyes. He silently spoke, saying, "I will leave you two alone for a while." Sherlock opened and walked out the door, closing it silently behind him.

As soon as Sherlock left the room, Jane began crying to herself. _This is my entire fault. John wouldn't be here if I was dead._ Jane thought. She grabbed John's hand and held it softly. She laid her head in her other arm on the bed. The tears were coming quicker now.

There was a sudden, small sound of movement. John's fingers curled around Jane's hand. Jane quickly looked up with tear filled eyes to see that John was awake.

John opened his drowsy eyes to see Jane looking at him. He smiled slightly, mumbling to himself, "I must be dead to wake up to an angel."

Jane couldn't help herself. She started crying harder. "I am so, so sorry," Jane said to John, in between sobs. "It is all my fault that you got hurt. I should be the one who was poisoned."

John took all his will power to speak. "Please don't even say that. I would take on poison any day if it was to save you the pain." John was telling the truth. He didn't know why, but he felt a deep connection between him and Jane. He felt something that he hadn't felt in a long time. True love.

Jane still held John's weak hand. There was complete silence between them besides for Jane's whimpers.

John wanted to say something that he has been meaning to tell Jane. This may not be the perfect moment, but he didn't care. "I-I love you, Jane."

Jane looked into John's soft, blue eyes. She hasn't heard anyone say that to her since her mother died. Jane has never known what love truly felt like. But somehow, she knew that she loved John. "I love you, too."

Unconsciously, Jane leaned in toward John and softly kissed John's smooth lips, like she used to see her mother do to her father. John kissed her back.

After a while, they pulled apart, smiling. Jane's hand started to slip out of John's, but John quickly grabbed it, looking a little concerned.

"Don't worry. I will never leave you," Jane told John, regaining her grip on John's hand.

Out in the hallway Sherlock paced the floor, his mobile in his hand. It suddenly started to ring. He quickly answered it. "Lestrade, where are you?"

"I am at a crime scene, Sherlock," Lestrade said.

"What is so important that you had to leave?"

"Sherlock... I am at an abandoned building. We just found a body and were able to identify it."

"Yeah and who is it?" Sherlock spoke into the phone, sounding really annoyed.

Sherlock heard a sigh through the phone. "You're not going to believe this. It's the body of James Moriarty."


End file.
